Happy Birthday, Mom!
by DryadSpeaks
Summary: Spinoff of All My Dreams chapter 124 and The Smile on Your Face chapter 106.  It's Artie's mom's birthday!  Contains large amounts of puppies and general family and Quartie cuteness!


"No, Daisy, you can't come into the bathroom," Artie said to the little dog, sitting at his feet. "Wait here. Or go play with Linds," he said, pointing to where his sister and the other puppy were playing, on the floor near the foot of his bed. They had just finished decorating the entire house and back yard, at Linds's insistence, and he'd decided he'd better take care of business before Quinn got there.

She wagged her tail, and sat there, staring at him, as he closed the bathroom door.

Once he'd finished, he opened the door, to find the puppy sitting exactly where he'd left her. She promptly started wagging her tail more, and jumped up, almost reaching his lap. After the second attempt, he put a hand out, and caught her.

He glanced around the room, and spotted Linds, sheepishly sitting on his bed, with Jakie jumping around beside her.

"Um…we had a little accident," Linds said, as he approached her. "Jakie peed on your bed."

"WHAT?" Artie said, his eyes growing wide. "How did THAT happen?"

"He just got too excited," Linds explained. "He jumped onto the chest at the bottom of your bed, and then up, for the first time ever! And then peed. I'm sorry, Artie."

Artie sighed. The puppies were ALWAYS on his bed, and he knew it was only a matter of time…but he really wished it hadn't happened that day. He didn't have time for that…he had a barbeque to man!

"Well," he said, "we'd better get my comforter in the washing machine."

Once Linds and Jakie were off the bed, and Daisy was back on the ground, he pulled the comforter off the bed.

"I don't think it went through," he said, as he tried to figure out the best way to carry it to the wash.

Eventually, he had it half draped over himself, allowing him to still see and move properly, with the peed-on portion hanging over the side of his chair. He hadn't realized quite how large it was, until it was bunched up in his lap.

"Here," Linds said, reaching out and folding it over onto him. "I'll help. I don't want you to have an accident."

"I don't think we need to worry about me being the one having an accident," he grumbled, before he realized what she'd done. "Linds! That's where the pee is! Get it off!"

"It's ok," she said, pulling it back down. "It wasn't very much…he peed on your floor earlier. I cleaned it."

"Oh, well, if he peed on my floor earlier…" Artie muttered, as they made their way to the washing machine.

"Oh dear," Beth said coming around the corner. "Someone have an accident?"

"It was Jakie," Linds admitted. "But just a little one. Artie said we're going to wash it."

"Here," Beth said, stepping forward. "Let me do that, sweetie."

He shook his head. "No," he said. "It's your birthday, Mom…you're not doing laundry."

Beth smiled. It certainly wouldn't have been a big deal for her to toss the comforter in the wash, but the fact that her children were that considerate made her almost beam with pride.

"Ok," she said. "If you insist. Just make sure you don't put in too much soap. And Linds…don't open the washer until it beeps, remember?"

Linds nodded. "That only happened one time," she said. "And it was because I forgot my sock!"

Artie grinned, before he remembered how slick the floor in the laundry room had been after the incident. Yes, it was better that she didn't do that, he thought to himself.

He'd just pressed the button on the washing machine, after carefully measuring the soap as per his mother's instructions, when Quinn arrived.

"Happy Birthday, Beth," she said, handing her a large bouquet of flowers and giving her a big hug.

"Thank you, sweetie," Beth said, hugging her back and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Oh, they're beautiful!"

Quinn grinned. She hadn't known what to get, so she'd settled on flowers, and something else that she would give her later.

After Beth left to put the flowers in water, and Linds left to go see what the puppies were doing in Artie's room, Quinn stepped closer to Artie, who immediately pulled her into his lap.

"Hey," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "You look amazing. I approve of these shorts."

Quinn giggled. "I thought you might," she said, "which is why I wore them. My legs are SO white, though…I think I'm going to have to wear shorts like these A LOT. Is that ok?"

Artie chuckled, leaning forward a bit, to inspect her shorts. "I think that would probably be ok," he said. "I would also not be opposed to even shorter shorts, or a bikini or something," he added, his face suddenly becoming flushed. "I mean—I—sorry," he stuttered, looking at her face.

Quinn grinned, resting her head on his shoulder. "I think we could arrange that," she whispered into his ear. "But only under one condition."

"Oh?" he asked, wondering what that condition would be.

"If you get bikini Quinn," she whispered seductively, "then I get shirtless Artie. Deal?"

"Oh, um…" he mumbled quietly. "I…maybe," he finished, unsure of what to say. Much the way Artie didn't participate in shorts weather…he didn't participate in shirtless weather, either.

Quinn glanced up at his face, realizing that she'd made him uncomfortable.

"But only if you want to," she whispered, quickly, planting a discreet kiss on his neck, in case anyone walked by and saw them. "No pressure or anything. Actually…maybe I don't want that. I don't want the entire world knowing that you're even hotter when you're not wearing a shirt."

Artie blushed, and was just about to say something, when Linds ran past.

"Clean up in Artie's room," she announced loudly, as she ran back into the room, a spray bottle of cleaner in hand.

Artie brought his hand up to his face, as Quinn giggled and climbed out of his lap.

"I guess we'd better go see what that's about," he muttered, turning. "And then we have to get outside and light the barbeque!"

* * *

><p>"Maybe I should do that," Quinn said, standing above Artie, as he carefully attempted to light the barbeque. "Or your dad. Or Michael. I don't want you to light yourself on fire."<p>

"Why does EVERYONE think I'm going to light myself on fire?" Artie asked, as a small burst of flames shot up, causing him to jump back a bit.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time…" Quinn trailed off, biting her lip and grinning at him.

"That was an oven mitt, woman!" he said, as he looked around for something to close the lid with. He had decided they'd better get the grill going, so it would be ready when his dad and Michael returned from the store. But he hadn't really thought through how he was going to close it after it was lit. If he leaned over it, he probably WOULD set himself on fire, and it was questionable whether he'd even be able to reach the handle.

Quinn spotted him looking around, and figured out what he was doing, so she stepped forward, and carefully closed the lid.

"Thanks," he said, placing the barbeque lighter on the patio table. "I probably would have set myself on fire if I'd done that," he added, sheepishly. "And then I would have just proved all of you right. Yeah…not happening."

Quinn giggled. "What's on the menu?" she asked, sitting down at the table.

"I'm not exactly sure," Artie said. "Dad and Michael should be here any minute. Whatever they get…that's what's on the menu."

"I have a Greek salad and a fruit salad in the cooler in the back of my car," she said. "I thought I'd just leave it there until we need it…I know there's never space in your fridge for anything."

"Good plan," he said. "This morning I took out an apple, and then decided I didn't want it…but couldn't put it back because stuff had shifted, and there was no space. So I had to eat it."

Quinn laughed, as they heard the front door open.

"Artie," Linds said, running out the back door, the puppies on her heels. "Dad's and grumpy pants are back. Are more people coming for dinner? Because I think he got too much food," she added.

"Grumpy pants?" Quinn whispered, glancing over at Artie. "Oh…Michael."

Artie chuckled. "He hasn't been in the best mood lately," he said. "Which has earned him that very fancy nickname. I guess we'd better go see what's going on." He turned to Linds.

"Are you going to play out here with them?" he asked.

She nodded. "Is that ok?"

"Of course," he said. "Just stay away from the barbeque…it's on, and really hot. Ok?"

She nodded again, before running down the ramp, and grabbing the little ball she played with the dogs with.

Artie and Quinn entered the kitchen, just in time to see Michael put down what he muttered were the last of the bags. There were no less than ten grocery bags all over the kitchen.

"Um…Dad?" Artie called out.

Steve popped his head into the kitchen. "I didn't know what to get," he said. "So I got everything."

Quinn thought to herself that she'd never heard something that reminded her as strongly that Artie was his father's son, as that statement. It was SO something Artie would have said. And done.

"What does everything entail?" Artie asked, peering into one of the bags.

"Oh, you know…" Steve said, casually. "Everything."

* * *

><p>Once they'd sorted through the bags, picking several things to cook, and putting the rest in the freezer, Quinn got to work, rummaging through the fridge, looking for something to put on the chicken. Once she'd found something that satisfied her, she mixed it together with the chicken in a bowl to marinate, and then dug around in one of the cabinets, looking for tinfoil to wrap the corn in.<p>

"Don't open that one!" Artie said, as he came in off the back deck, where he'd been checking on the barbeque, and on Linds and the puppies. "The cake is in there. I'm worried it might fall out. Or fall over," he muttered. "Dad doesn't listen very well."

Quinn grinned. "Can I see?" she asked.

He nodded. "Just be careful," he said. "No sudden movements."

She giggled again, as she carefully opened the cabinet. After which she just stared at the cake. Which was less of a cake, and more of a mountain of cupcakes.

"Dad and I started last night," he said, speaking quietly so his mother wouldn't hear. "And then Linds came and wanted to help…which is why we now have a tree-shaped mountain of cupcakes with pink icing."

"I think it's pretty," Quinn said. "Has your mom seen it?"

Artie shook his head.

"I think she's going to love it," she said softly, closing the cabinet door. She knew Beth would love it, because it had been lovingly prepared by her family.

"Are we ready to get this grilling show on the road?" Artie asked, surveying the counter, where Quinn had laid everything out. She had insisted on helping, and Artie was kind of relieved…he didn't exactly know what to do, and his dad seemed to have disappeared.

"I think we should wait for your dad," she said. "I don't really know how to cook stuff on a barbeque, and I don't-"

"Want me to light myself on fire," Artie muttered. "I know."

"I need you," she said, a glint in her eye. "And you'll be far less effective for what I need you for if your arms are all burned."

Artie's eyes widened at her slightly provocative statement, and he was about to say something, when Steve walked into the kitchen.

"Are we ready to get this show on the road?" he asked, looking at everything that Quinn had prepared.

Artie nodded. "I can do it, Dad," he said.

"Why don't you let me take care of it?" Steve asked, grabbing a couple of plates and heading towards the door. "You're kind of close to the grill, and I wouldn't want you to light yourself on fire by accident."

Quinn bit her lip, trying to stop the laughter that was threatening to burst forth from her mouth. She was kind of glad that she wasn't the only one that was concerned about that. And the look on his face was absolutely priceless.

"Have I EVER lit myself on fire?" he muttered, placing a bowl on his lap, and heading outside. "No."

"Well, there was that oven mitt, son," Steve said, chuckling softly.

"That was an accident!" Artie muttered, louder that time.

"Of course it was," Quinn said, nudging him with her elbow. "People don't light themselves on fire on purpose. Or…usually they don't."

Artie picked up one of the pairs of barbecue tongs, and was about to hand them to his dad, when Linds came running over.

"Artie, stay away from there!" she said. "It's hot, and there's fire, and I don't want you to-"

He cut her off, sighing. "Don't worry, Linds," he said. "I'm not going to light myself on fire. Dad is doing it."

"Oh, good!" she said, before turning, and running off again.

"I swear," Artie muttered. "If one more person tells me that I'm going to light myself on fire, I'm cooking everything myself, just to prove you all wrong."

* * *

><p>Once everything was cooking, Quinn headed into the house, to go to the washroom. As she walked past the living room, she saw Beth, sitting on the couch, reading a book.<p>

"Hey, sweetie," Beth said, when she glanced up and saw Quinn. "I was told I'm not allowed to leave this room until I'm summoned."

Quinn grinned. She knew Beth would have been out there trying to help them, if she hadn't been ordered to stay put.

"We've just started grilling stuff," Quinn said. "So it won't be long now."

"Artie's not doing that, is he?" Beth asked, trying not to let her concern show on her face. "Not that he's not capable," she went on, "I'm just a little worried that he might accidentally set fire to himself. He's way closer to the grill than I think is safe."

Quinn tried not to grin, but finally couldn't help herself. "Don't tell him that," she said. "Steve, Linds, and I have already said it…and he said if one more person says that, he's doing all the cooking by himself just to prove a point."

Beth rolled her eyes. "It's so like him to choose something that involves setting himself on fire to prove a point," she muttered. "Quinn, honey…please make sure he doesn't actually do that. I know he'd be safe…I just don't want him that close to the grill."

Quinn nodded. "I'll make sure," she said. "I should probably get back out there."

* * *

><p>"That's it," Artie muttered at Michael, as Quinn walked back onto the porch. "Where are the grill mitts?"<p>

"What for?" Quinn asked.

"For grilling, obviously," he said.

"All I said was that you shouldn't do that, because you're going to set yourself on fire," Michael said. "Which is obvious. You're like…the same height as that thing. And there's fire in there, in case you haven't noticed. Over which you'd be sticking your arm. And that shirt is probably flammable. Stop being an ass and move so I can look and make sure it's not burning."

Artie muttered something none of them heard, before reluctantly moving out of the way.

Michael opened the lid, and peered inside. "Looks ok to me," he said. "Where's Dad?"

"He said he had to get something out of the van," Artie said. "We'd better set the table," he added, turning to Quinn. "Not exactly exciting, but want to help?"

Quinn nodded, grinning at him.

They headed inside, as Michael plopped down in one of the deck chairs, keeping an eye on the barbeque.

* * *

><p>Once the table was set, the food was cooked, the salads and everything else were out, and the grill was off, Artie made his way to the living room.<p>

"Mom?" he asked, peeking around the corner. "I've come to escort you to dinner at Chez Abrams," he said, holding out his arm.

Beth grinned, before standing up and walking over to her son. Despite the fact that she knew he'd rethink it a minute later, she looped her arm through his, after planting a kiss on his head.

"Oh…I guess I didn't think this through," he said, attempting to move his chair with his arm linked through hers, which proved near impossible. "Sorry, Mom," he said. "I guess you'll have to settle for just walking beside me."

Beth smiled, leaning down and wrapping her arms around him. Every so often over the years, since the accident, she was overcome by little moments that reminded her how thankful she should be that she still had her son, and could walk beside him. That was one of those moments.

As they headed outside, Beth grinned at what she saw. Everyone was standing around the table on the deck, which was covered in more food than they could possibly eat, she thought. They were all smiling, and once she stepped onto the porch, Linds started singing happy birthday. The rest of them quickly joined in.

* * *

><p>After dinner, Michael and Linds cleared the table, while Artie tried to rearrange the fridge to make space for the leftovers.<p>

"Why is there a container of chocolate chips in here?" he muttered. "These don't need to be refrigerated. And neither do these. And…Linds," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "Are these water balloons yours?"

"No," the little girl said, shaking her head. "I saw Michael putting them in there yesterday," she whispered, so her other brother wouldn't hear.

Deciding they were probably meant from him, Artie took them out and gave them to Quinn, asking her to pop them in the sink and dispose of the evidence.

Finally satisfied that there was enough space, Artie began carefully arranging the containers Quinn handed him, until everything fit.

"We should get the cake out there now," Artie said, heading over to the cabinet. "We should probably light the candles and then take it out, right? I'll carry it."

Quinn exchanged a glance with Steve, who made a discreet motion with his hands, telling her to try and persuade him NOT to do that.

"Um…I think we should light it once it's on the table," Quinn said.

"Why," Artie quipped, "because I'm going to light myself on fire?"

She would have been worried that he was upset, if she hadn't caught the way he was biting back the grin that threatened to spread across his face.

"I was just kidding," he went on. "I wanted to see who would say something first."

Steve chuckled. "I really think your mother would appreciate it if you DIDN'T set yourself on fire on her birthday," he said. "Or, you know…any day…"

They all laughed, as Quinn carefully retrieved the cake from the cabinet. Once she was holding it, she smiled softly at the way it was decorated.

Almost every cupcake had something written on it, in carefully iced letters, which she suspected were Artie's handiwork, probably directed by Linds. The cupcakes said things like "Happy Birthday!" and "We Love You!," and the one on the very top had "Mom" written on it, surrounded by a heart.

At Artie's request, she placed the cake carefully in his lap, and walked outside beside him, just in case there was any sort of cake-related incident.

* * *

><p>While they set up the cake, Linds stood behind Beth, holding her small hands over her eyes. When the cake was lit, she removed them, and yelled, "Surprise!"<p>

Once the chorus of "Happy Birthday" had died down, Linds jumped up from her seat. "Do you like your cake?" she asked her mother, standing beside her. "Dad and Artie and I made it just for you. And Artie wrote on them. And I told him what to write. And they let me pick out the icing colours and everything!"

"It's beautiful," Beth said, hoping the tears that were threatening to invade her eyes stayed put in their tear ducts for a little longer. "I think it's the best birthday cake ever, actually," she said. "Thanks, you guys."

Artie grinned, watching as his mother looked at the cake for a second, trying to figure out the best way to take it apart.

"The top one is yours," he offered. "And then the rest should just come off in layers…I hope."

Beth chuckled, as she carefully removed the top cupcake.

Once everyone had one, they started eating them.

* * *

><p>"I made you this card," Linds said to her mother, holding out the large card, which appeared to consist of four pieces of construction paper, glued together.<p>

"Oh, thank you, sweetie," Beth said, hugging her daughter, being careful so that none of the loose glitter would accidentally get on the cake.

"I also got you this," the little girl added, holding out a small package. "I wrapped it all by myself."

Beth grinned, as she carefully removed the paper from the box.

"Oh, Linds," she said, reaching into the box and pulling out the delicate crystal bird that her daughter had picked out for her. "This is beautiful. Thank you, sweetie!"

Linds grinned, gently patting Jakie, who was curled up in her lap.

Michael handed her his gift next.

"Is that newspaper?" Artie muttered, glancing at the box his brother had just handed their mother. "We have real wrapping paper."

Quinn placed her hand gently on his, and glanced over. The gesture calmed him immediately.

"I know you said you wanted one of those," Michael said to his mother, gesturing to the set of whisks he had purchased for her. "Because one of the ones we have stabbed you in the hand last time you used it. Sorry…I should have got something better, but I didn't know what to get you," he added.

Beth grinned. "Thank you, sweetie," she said. "These are exactly what I needed! And you know I think it's better to get someone something they need if you're having trouble deciding what to get!"

Michael smiled softly at his mother, glancing over at the puppy nestled in his sister's lap. He'd been playing with both of them in secret almost every evening. It was easy to grab Daisy…he knew she sat outside Artie's bathroom door every night while he took a shower, and he could hear when his brother turned off the water, so he always made sure to return her in time. Jakie had proved a bit more difficult, because he was glued to Linds almost all the time, but he still found some brief moments to play with the puppy.

"Oh, Quinn, sweetie, you didn't need to get me anything else," Beth said, as Quinn handed her a carefully wrapped package. "You actually didn't need to get me anything at all," she added. "And the flowers are so lovely."

"I saw this," Quinn said, grinning at her, "and couldn't pass it up. It had your name written all over it."

"Oh, it's beautiful," Beth said, as she unwrapped the small photo album Quinn had picked out for her. "And you're right about the name," she added, smiling at her. "Literally," she added, holding it up so everyone could see the large A engraved on the front.

Quinn knew that Beth really didn't need another photo album, but she'd seen it while trying to find something to get her, and just couldn't pass it up.

After Steve had handed her a carefully wrapped necklace and earring set, which he announced was from all of them, it was Artie's turn.

As he handed the first of the two packages he was holding in his lap to his mother, he tried not to grin.

"I got this for you," he said. "To go with your other gift."

Beth unwrapped the box, and opened it, to find a selection of puppy supplies, which she suspected had come from the hall closet. Before she could say anything, Artie spoke.

"Surprise!" he said, grinning at her. "I thought you might need those for your birthday puppies."

Beth burst out laughing, and the laughter quickly spread to everyone else at the table.

Quinn looked at him, waiting for him to hand the other gift he had for her to her. He hadn't told her what he had ended up choosing, but from the shape of the box, she was pretty sure it wasn't the gift certificate he'd been contemplating.

"That was just a joke," Artie said. "Here's the real one," he added, handing the package to her.

As Beth carefully removed the paper from the package, she wondered what was inside the oddly-shaped box.

She opened the lid, and looked inside.

"Oh, sweetie," she said. "Where did you get this? It's beautiful!" She smiled, as she held up the wooden tree. It had spots to put pictures, and the words "Abrams Family" were burned into the bottom of the trunk.

"A guy at one of those little stands at the mall was selling them," Artie said. "I guess I should have talked to Quinn beforehand…is it ok? Do you like it? I made sure to get one big enough so you could add more pictures, like…if any of us get married, or have kids, eventually…" he trailed off.

"I love it," Beth said, her eyes tearing up a bit.

"I was going to stick some pictures in it," Artie said. "But then I thought I'd leave that so you can pick which ones you want."

Beth got up, and hugged her son, after which she went around the table, and hugged everyone else, thanking them for their gifts.

They sat outside for a bit longer, watching the puppies, who had decided they wanted to roll around in he grass, before they decided to head inside.

When Quinn announced that she had better be going, Artie escorted her to the door. When they were on the porch, she leaned down, and kissed him. "Thank you for inviting me," she said. "I'm really glad I came."

"So am I," Artie said. "And so is Mom. And everybody else."

"Goodnight," she whispered, kissing his neck.

"Night," he said. "I love you."

"Love you too," she whispered, before straightening up, and fetching her keys out of her purse.

As he watched her drive away, Artie sat on the porch, deep in thought. It wasn't the first time he'd felt that way, but having Quinn at something that would normally have been a family-only affair felt so natural. It was never awkward. She never seemed out of place. It was like she belonged there.

She did belong there, he decided, before heading inside. But did she feel that way too?

* * *

><p>The next morning, Artie wheeled into the living room. The first thing he noticed was that pictures had been reorganized again, and the family tree he'd given his mother was now hanging front and centre above the fireplace.<p>

He headed closer, to get a better look at it. He smiled, as he looked at it. The top row contained pictures of Beth and Steve, while the second contained pictures of Linds, Michael, himself…and Quinn.

Apparently he wasn't the only one who felt like she belonged there, Artie mused, as he stared at Quinn's smiling face, next to his in the frame.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Corresponds with chapter 124 of **_**All My Dreams**_**, and chapter 106 of **_**The Smile on Your Face.**_


End file.
